Heart of Stone
by CindyChamiAngel
Summary: Sam and Dean go to New York to investigate three bizarre deaths. It's hard to tell friends from foes without a scorecard.


Non, rien de rien, non, je ne regrette rien

Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait, ni le mal

Tout ça m'est bien égal

Non, rien de rien, non, je ne regrette rien

C'est payé, balayé, oublié, je me fous du passé

Edith Piaf Je Ne regrette

Translation:

No, nothing, no, I do not regret anything

Neither the good that was done to me nor the evil

All that I care

No, nothing, no, I do not regret anything

It's paid, swept, forgotten, I do not care about the past

Quand ils sont venus, nous les avons craints. On nous avait raconté leur violence et leur haine de notre espèce. Cependant, mon petit, ils sont devenus nos plus grands alliés et nos sauveurs. Plus que cela, ils sont devenus nos amis.

Remy-Paul Gargouilles

Translation:

When they came, we feared them. We had been told of their violence and their hatred of our kind. However, my little one, they became our greatest allies and our saviors. More than that, they became our friends.

Sam was in love. This grand old Dame had taken his heart. His eyes could not absorb enough of her, his ears could not hear enough.

The object of his infatuation? New York City. He'd been to New York many times, but only once to the city, and then for a few hours spent in the arms of a lost love.

Secretly he had always wanted to come here. Despite his desire to be a lawyer, in his heart of heart, he had always been a Broadway baby. He wasn't a singer or an actor, but he had caught the tech bug in High school and had harbored a hidden desire to stage manage, or even direct.

Now he was here, walking down Broadway, surrounded by his illicit passion.

He was overwhelmed by a cacophony of sights and sounds and smells. The bustle and press of the people going on their way, the honking of the cars, even the smog was like manna to him.

Dean hung back. He looked vaguely uncomfortable, hands in pockets, head down like Deniro in Taxi Driver.

"You ok?" Sam asked. Dean nodded sharply. "You sure?"

"Yeah, the place just lost its charm. It used to be porn shops and hookers as far as the eye could see. Now, it's this crap." Dean groused.

"Are you kidding? This is the theater district! Rent, Oklahoma!, South Pacific, West Side Story..."

"Cool your jets there, Phantom of the Opera. We are in, kill this thing and out. This isn't a sightseeing tour."

"I was thinking about catching a show while I'm here, maybe a bite to eat at Katz. You'll love it, sandwiches that size of a basketball..."

"Yeah, no. All I want is out of here."

"Suit yourself, I'm here for a few days." Sam offered, defiantly.

"Sure, let's just take a vacation, shirk our responsibilities..." Dean said.

"Oh, unlike when we spent three days at the Cadillac ranch..."

Oh, that's a piece of history, Sammy, You can't miss that."

"What is your problem, man?" Sam said and turned on his brother in the street. People around them hunched closer and moved to avoid the aggravated giant.

Dean took a deep breath. "There are… too many people here. OK. I don't like crowds like this."

Sam thought about it for a second and then barked a laugh which he quickly controlled. "Well, I mean, a lot of people..."

"Sam, spare me the touchy feely. Let's just do the job, then you can go to your show and your cat place and I'll wait in the motel or in, I don't know... Connecticut."

Sam turned away from Dean to hide his smile and kept walking. "So, where to?"

"This is just like any other case, Sam. The cops, I guess."

Sam nodded and took out his phone to find the address of the number of the precinct house., and then nodded and hailed a cab with an expert whistle.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"And why wouldn't I?" Just then a cab stopped and Sam opened the door for his brother.

"Ah, mon Petite, when I was younger, when the whole world was younger, our family lived high about the City of Lights. Even then, there was no more beautiful city than Paris in the whole world. The cobblestone, the freshly baked croissant, the Seine meandering like a lover down the middle of town, arching bridges marking the course of her tributaries.

Even our wicked faces were considered art there. We protected the city, we were her guardians and the citizens trusted us with even their most beloved possession, Notre Dame. I myself would sing when her bells rang out, from the top most rafter, watching my beloved Paris grow and stretch and blossom.

Art and music, children, the very land of God. It was paradise, not just for us, but for those who called us forth. We were loved then. So long ago. ~Remy-Paul Gargouilles.

Dean tugged at his collar and stretched. A moment later the desk Sargent came back with his badge.

"Seriously?" the officer asked.

"Is there a problem?" Dean asked. Sam flashed an alarmed look.

"Look here, this ain't some podunk and I wasn't born yesterday, pal. I know a fake badge when I see one. And if I wasn't so busy with real criminals, I'd run your asses in for impersonating a human. I don't know what the hell you two are up to..."

Dean could feel his brother tense to leave in a hurry but at that moment the incredible happened.

"Is there a problem, Delancy?" Asked a plain clothes cop.

"Nothing I can't handle, Lt. Halsey. Just a couple of putzes with fake FBI creds."

"I'll handle it," Halsey said. He motioned for them to move to the back of the station where the offices were. He brushed his coat back so they could see the .45 at his side in case they were making any stupid plans. With a glance to one another, they followed.

They say nothing lasts forever, ma petite, not even us. I have seen many amazing things, including the deaths of those like us.

So, too, did paradise end. In the myths, they say the humans turned on us, but in truth, they turned on one another. It began with a storm – La Deluge! The streets of my beloved Paris ran red with blood and the night was filled with the sound of screams and running feet.

All the beautiful building shone in the light of fires that burned all the time, and then, Monsieur Guillotine's tower added to the din with its earth-shattering crack!

We are not shy about violence, for we were created as protectors, but so much blood and for less and less reason every day. The world had gone insane.

We could not stay. There was nothing left there for us to protect, and so, like the animals from Eden, we innocents were sent out of paradise with the sinners.

This was the ugliest station house Dean had ever seen. It looked like something out of a Noir movie, forties architecture, linoleum floors and harsh florescent light. One of the bulbs was dying, giving a flicker of hopelessness to the ambiance.

Halsey opened a door and they went in – not an interrogation room, it looked like his office. He offered them seats and closed the door behind them.

He took a moment, going to his own seat, rearranging things on his desk. Dean could tell he was working up to something.

Finally, after a long, uncomfortable silence, he looked at them.

"So, are you hear about the..." He mouthed the last word. "MONSTER."

Sam and Dean looked at one another nervously. The both nodded. Halsey let out a sigh.

"Thank God. We got no idea what to do. How can I help you?"

"So, wait, you know about us?"

"Hunters, or are you Men of Letters?" Halsey ventured. Again Dean looked at Sam in disbelief. His brother shrugged.

"Well, technically both. But how?"

"This is New York, man. Everyone comes here. Tourists, terrorists, vampires. Hell, even Jason came here in a movie." Dean laughed and Sam rolled his eyes. "When you get your detective rank, they tell you that if people with fake badge show up after something weird happens, they are friends. They are hunters or men of letters. That's about all we know. Oh, and that we are to help you however we can."

"That's great," Dean said and smiled. "Can we see the body? What can you tell us?"

"I'll get you the case file. It's actually Frank Karen's case, but I feel certain he would want you to have it. He doesn't like this kind of stuff. Catholic, you know."

Dean nodded. Halsey picked up the phone and made a brief call. "Yeah, Frank? They're here." He hung up.

"He's on the way, but I'll tell you what I heard. There have been three victims, all of them dropped from very high..."

"Couldn't it be a fall from a building?" Sam ventured.

"In Central park? Not likely. They also have scratches on their shoulders, like bird talons and one of them had their eyes… pecked out, like some kind of giant bird or something."

"Thunderbird?" Dean asked.

"I've never heard of one in reality." Sam countered.

"There are never any footprints about the victims, either," Halsey added.

At that moment a very disgruntled man entered the room. He had heavy dark hair and bushy eyebrows and a full mustache. His eyes were blue and mercurial, looking everywhere and taking in everything.

"Frank? These are your hunters." Halsey offered and stood, motioning to the boys. Sam and Dean both stood and shook Frank's offered hand.

"I didn't believe you guys existed, but I sure and glad you do." He said. "Thanks, Mick. See you later." and he escorted the boys out of the Lieutenant's office.

Outside of our beloved Paris, we scattered to the four winds. Humans, all they seem to know is war. And us, with our faces, they screamed demons and tried to kill us where they found us. Our people took to the mountains, but even there, we were hunted. They mistook us for dragons.

Our love of humans almost turned to hatred. And there were some humans worse than the others. Occult groups with just enough information to be dangerous, or just enough malice to be murderous. Hunters, Men of Letters, Templars, the Thule, the Vril, they all hunted us for our parts, for our magic, or just for spite.

Those were dark years, mon cher.

Dean looked over the body. A man, in really good shape with a few scars here and there. Whatever took out this guy was powerful, he was built like an MMA fighter.

The scratches on his shoulders dug deep, but it seemed to Dean's eye that the tearing was caused by a struggle. Not that Dean could blame the guy for trying to get away.

On the table nearby lay The man's possessions, Jeans, a tee shirt, a leather jacket and a bunch of perfectly round stone spheres, a lot of them were broken but a few were intact. Sam moved Past Dean and picked up one of the perfect rocks. He got a strange look on his face.

"What?" Dean asked, sensing more than seeing Sam's reaction.

"It's warm and... humming." Sammy offered and looked a little grossed out.

"Humming?"

"Yeah." Sam put it down quickly.

Dean reached over and picked up the brown leather jacket, turned it over and on the front lapel, he found something disturbing.

"Sammy. We got trouble." He turned the white pin with the red cross over so his brother could see it.

"Oh, crap. Templars." Sam said and sighed.

"Templars? Like Knight's Templars?" Frank asked. The both turned as if remembering he was in the room.

"Yeah, Protectors of the Grail..." Dean offered.

"So the Grail is a real thing?" Frank asked, both amazed and freaked out at the same time.

"Actually, we're related," Dean said with a sly grin.

"Dean..." Sammy warned. "What the hell do they want?"

"Wait, so you're telling me this is a knight's templar?" Frank said again, trying to plumb the depth of this conversation.

"Officer, not for nothing, but this rabbit hole is just getting started. The weird runs really deep. Hell, Vampires are kind of normal in our world. So, and this is just because I like you, You should probably leave before you hear anything else."

Frank looked at the earnest expressions on the face of both Winchesters and after a long moment nodded and left the room.

"SO, what have we got. Weird stone balls, dead Templars. As far as I can tell, we got one expert on the Templars, we should ask her." Dean offered.

"Dude, she's studying for the ACT," Sam responded.

"Really? College placement trumps stuff that can kill us in your world now? I'm not asking to use her as a virgin sacrifice, just ask her a question."

Sam sighed and nodded. He took out his phone.

And then, suddenly, an angel appeared. A real angel. His name was Hezekiah and he came to us as we were almost lost completely. He shone like the sun, ma petite and he led us here, to this shining new city, taught us how to hide and how to live. Game was plentiful, with rats and pigeon and even sometimes deer in the outer boroughs.

It was 1900 and this place was so alive. We had forgotten what it was to be alive, lost in our mere existence. The lights burned and the smoke filled the air from gas lamps and on that first night I stretched my wings and flew all night long.

I was home, a new home, but one I fell in love with immediately.

Sam waited, finally Suri picked up the phone.

"Dad?" She asked and sounded off, blurry." Immediately his dad sense began to tingle.

"Is everything alright?" He asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Yeah, Why?"

"You sound weird."

"Well, I am your daughter." She giggled and it instantly relieved him. "No, Grandpa John taught me how to make buffalo pizza and I ate too much and I fell asleep over calculus. Are you alright?" Suddenly it was her turn, he could hear the apprehension creep into her voice. She was 15 going on 40.

"No, it's fine. I need some help, though." he offered.

"I'll get Cass, or do you need me to get Grandpa?" She offered and he heard her stand and move through her room. In the background, he heard Blue Oyster Cult playing softly and flashed Dean a dirty look. It wasn't lost on his brother who looked innocent and curious.

"What did I do?" Dean asked.

Sam put the phone on speaker and the sound of "Burning for you wafted out at him. Dean smiled like a Cheshire cat.

"Honey, Dean is here and we need to talk to you."

There was a momentary silence and then. "Me? Whatever it is I was here, you can ask Cass and Grandpa..."

"No, honey. It's about the Templars."

"Oh!" There was pleasure in her voice. She was pleased to be able to help, Sam could see her puffing up with pride in his mind's eye. "Shoot."

"What the hell are these purring stone balls?" Dean blurted.

"Oh," She said matter of factly. "They are Terre du Sang."

"Excuse me?" Dean said.

"It means Blood of the Earth." Sam translated.

"She is a lucky kid, Sammy, she got your brains and my looks." Dean offered. "What the hell is this Bloody Earth stuff."

"They're used in spells. If you break them open, they have this liquid in them that is very powerful."

"So the Templar's are doing some kind of spell?" Sam asked.

"The Templars' are always doing some kind of spell. That's part of the reason the church turned on them. There are two factions in the Templars, the Gardiens de la foi and Gardiens du flamme sacrée."

"Can't they just speak English?" Dean bitched. Sammy chuckled.

"The guardians of the faith with over the special artifacts of the Temple, like the grave of Mary and the Grail, and some say the Ark of the Covenant."

"OK, that's big." Sam sighed.

"The Guardians of the Sacred flame are spell casters and deal with magic creatures and events. Like Men of Letters." She added.

"Got it, So they are hunting these Terre thingies." Dean offered.

"Yes, Dean, the thingies." He heard Castiel reply.

"Why ae you in my niece's room?" Dean asked harshly.

"She is in my room if you must know. Your father is here, too. He says to tell you dingbat's hello."

Sam sighed and Dean smiled.

"So, we should stay out of this?" Sam asked.

"Well, during the hunt, the stones are more important than anything else. Bystanders have been killed. And if the Templars are hunting for them, the gargoyles in the area freak. They hate Templars and will kill as many of them as they can."

"So, how do we kill gargoyles?" Dean asked.

"They are solid rock, Dean. I don't think you do."

"There are spells, but I don't know them. Explosives, too. big boom." Suri said.

"OK, we got this. You go and work on your ACT."

"Fine. You sure you don't need my help?" She ventured.

"Cass, lock her in her room," Sam said. He heard her yelp. "Kidding! Cass, I'm kidding."

"Sorry," Cass said and Sam heard Suri being put on the ground.

"Stay out of trouble, you two." Dean offered.

"Love you," Sam said into the phone.

"I love you, too, Sam," Cass responded and the phone hung up. Sam and Dean exchanged a glance.

"So?" Sam asked.

"Let's check the bodies and see if we have any bystanders. Maybe we can just stay here and try to minimize the damage to the innocent."

Sam nodded and shrugged and they checked out the other bodies. When Dean turned his back, Sammy pockets the two stone balls that were undamaged. There was something special about them, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

For many years we lived in this grand town. Gaslight gave way to electricity, horsecarts to cars and we prospered with the city.

Oh, there were dark times here too, mes ami, yes, the great war, the great depression, the war to end all wars. In those dark times, we sat our vigil and, unknown to the humans, we protected them, loved them. Once again, we had a reason to be joyful. New York was ours and we loved it.

And then our enemies found us.

They exited the morgue, Dean spotted him. Dean sometimes wondered if Sammy was too trusting for this job, and now was one of those moments. His brother didn't even seem to notice the Templar with the gun trained on his head.

Dean's body, a slave to muscle memory grabbed his brother and threw him to the ground as the shots rang out.

"Son of a bitch. I seriously hate these guys." Dean swore, covering Sam.

"You are not welcome here, hunters!" The Templar yelled and took off down the street. Dean got up and took after him, ran as fast as he could, propelled by determinations and pure, unadulterated pissed off.

He dodged a honking horn and knocked down a bike messenger but soon found his stride and knew his brother was not far behind, the long legs and physical conditioning allowing him to quickly catch up with Dean. He heard Sam's familiar footsteps behind him.

The Templar turned down an alley and Dean was hot on his heels, Sam now at Dean's right shoulder and still gaining.

There was a scream and the sound of flapping wings. Dean and Sam were brought up short as they saw, in broad daylight, a gargoyle with a 15-foot wingspan grab air and ascend carrying the hapless Templar skyward.

The Templar struggled and fought, managed to pull a dagger from his belt but it was too late. Some 1000 foot in the air, he was released to fall into the alleyway and shatter his skull in a rain of gore.

"Son of a bitch," Dean said blandly. He turned to look at Sammy, who seemed distressed.

Dean looked around. Oddly, no one seemed to notice the gargoyle that was slowly ascending back into the alley or the dead mage.

It landed then, male, seemingly carved with an intricate spiral pattern and a large, hooked nose. He glared at them but stood still. It regarded them.

"You are not Templars." He said with a thick, French accent.

Sam and Dean shook their heads. "We're hunters." Dean offered and the creature shrieked then, a horrific sound and advanced on them. It held it's hand out but not threateningly, rather as if reaching for something. It's palm faced the air imploringly.

They gave ground scrambling for their weapons. Dean got his gun out and fired twice, hitting soundly and knocking off small pieces of stone that oozed a weird, gray liquid. It didn't seem to feel pain, just advanced on them.

Behind them, Dean heard footsteps and turned, saw Templars, one in a business suit, one wearing Jeans and a Tee Shirt and one in fatigues. They carried guns and pointed through the boys. Suri's words came back to him "Nothing is as important to them as the stones." Not even us. he thought.

The gargoyle considered the odds for a second and then took off. Dean and Sam turned to the Templars, who didn't lower their weapons. With an exchange of looks, Dean and Sam put up their hands and were lead away.

It was in the fifties when the dreaded monsters found us, the men of the white cross. They came and they hunted and we did as much as we could to repel them. They were eviler then we remembered, time and wealth and power having corrupted them, and we could see their darkness in their eyes. And yet, we were shocked at what they did, what they came for.

The guildhall of the Gardiens du flamme sacrée was lavish. Baroque flourishes covered the walls, expensive artwork. There was an actual Gauguin hanging in the room where the boys were being held.

Sammy looked around impressed.

"Don't fall in love, we ain't staying," Dean muttered at him.

"Well, at least we aren't tied to these chairs." Sam offered and Dean laughed.

At that moment, the door opened and a tall man entered the room, sat across from them behind a desk. He had dark hair and a thin mustache. He looked like something from the fifties.

"I am Parker De La Croix. Adversary for the Templars."

"Like a lawyer?" Dean asked.

Parker smiled, a sanctimonious looking gesture. "Something like that. It's complicated. However, for your needs, I am the an in charge. I am the one who gave your Castiel his permission to be the guardian of the Grail."

"I'm curious about that," Sam said. "Not that I'm disappointed, but why give up my daughter without a fight?"

"Would you have preferred a fight? Her mother was dead, there were... circumstances. You seemed a good parent and he a good guardian. It was expedient, for the time."

Sam's eyes narrowed. He understood the implication - we can take her back whenever we want. " Well, I'm her father and so when I think she needs to be protected, I'll find someone." He threw back and this time Parker's eyes narrowed. This man was unaccustomed to being challenged. Sam made a note of that.

"Well, there is a great deal of unpleasantness in the city at the moment and we would feel more comfortable if a person of your stature were out of harm's way." Parker returned, looking directly in Sam's eyes. Dean looked a little annoyed, but he knew this was not his fight. Sam could see his brother supporting him no matter what.

"We can take care of ourselves." Sam offered.

"Gargoyles are monsters," Parker said.

"So are demons and vamps and werewolves and Lucifer and Lilith and Leviathan and Chuck likes the letter "L" doesn't he?' Dean asked his brother. Sam offered a small smile and nodded. "Point is, I think we can handle a little statue." Dean stood and Sam followed.

"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to enjoy our hospitality? We have lovely rooms prepared for you and I understand you like cheeseburgers? We took the liberty of ordering both of you dinner from the best places in town..."

"As tempting as that is." Sammy offered, "We're working." The venom in his voice was discernible.

"Well, I suppose I can't keep you." Parker offered. "But remember, we are here if you need us. It would be an honor to serve the father of the Grail."

Sam nodded tightly and he and Dean left in silence.

You were privy to more of this tale then you know, my dear, for you were in the center of all of this. You were kept safe and warm and hidden from our direst enemies. We owe a debt to Sam Winchester and his brother we can never repay.

Sam's hand slipped unconsciously into jacket pocket where the warm stones purred. It comforted him knowing they were there.

"So, now what?" Dean asked.

"I'm starving. Let's go to Katz's"

A taxi ride later and it was Dean's turn to be in love. He shoveled hot corned beef and sauerkraut into his mouth, Russian dressing dripping down his chin.

"OMG," he muttered through the food. "This is..." he swallowed. "I got to say when you are right, you are right." Again he shoved more of the Reuben in his mouth. He washed it down with Cream soda.

Sam focused on the warm stones in his pocket. They were getting warmer and there was a subtle change in their frequency of the vibration.

"You ok?" Dean asked. Sam nodded and looked around. Out the front window, he saw it, a gargoyle standing in the middle of the sidewalk, glaring at him.

"Holy crap, Dean..." His brother followed his eyes and he did a spit take with his soda. It was perfectly still and looked like a statue but the eyes moved and gave it away. "What do we do?" Sam hissed.

Dean stopped the waitress. "We need two boxes please." He said calmly, tipped her and boxed their sandwiches. "Backdoor." He whispered and grabbed the boxes and they scooted out the back.

We searched and searched, so disturbed. you were the future, everything to us. We prayed to Hezekiah but he did not answer. We feared him dead as well.

They slipped passed the gargoyle in the front and made it back to their hotel.

"What the hell is going on, Sam?" Dean asked. "Call your daughter."

"No Dean, I think I know." Sam slipped the two polished gray stones out of his pocket and laid them carefully on the bad. "I don't think these are stones." He said.

One of them moved, shuddered and then fell still.

"What the hell?" Dean gasped and moved over, sat next to Sam on the bed. Both of them watched in rapt silence as the stones began to shudder and then, slightly, subtly, crack.

"Oh, oh my..." Sam said as the little beak appeared in the crack in the stone egg.

"Eggs?" Dean asked. Sam nodded. "Think the Templars know?"

"I don't think they care."

"Well, that explains a lot. Why the Gargoyle didn't kill us, why they hat ethe templars so much. I noticed in the morgue that all the deceased were Templars."

Sam nodded and the little gargoyle managed to stick its little head out of the now large crack. It looked at Dean and cheeped.

"OK, that is so ugly it's cute." Dean offered. The baby laid it's head on the side of the egg and rested.

"Hey, we should feed them." Sam offered.

"What is this, wildlife rescue? it's a monster, dude. It's going to grow into a monster."

"Say who, the Templars? You were kidnapped by one and it fed you."

"That was a good burger," Dean remembered. He thought for a minute and retrieve his Katz's box. he took out some corned beef and offered it to the little gargoyle. It ate ravenously and sang a very sweet song. This seemed to motivate the other who popped out of the egg and also began to sing for its supper.

"So, what do we do?" Dean asked.

"We need to get them back to their parents," Sam said with certainty.

"OK, how?"

"I suspect they will find us." As Dean fed them, Sam got up and got a couple of towels and, after helping them out of their shells, wrapped them warmly in the towels and Dean and he slid the babies under their coats and left the hotel room.

Every gargoyle in the City was looking for you. Our precious children. If we had known how safe you were, we would have handled things differently. We would have protected the hunters as well.

Sam and Dean skulked down a darkened back street.

"Sh!" Dean said comfortingly as he gently rocked the gargoyle in his hands. It fluttered excitedly and he offered it more corned beef. "You got a hollow leg there, little dude?"

"Don't fall in love." Sam offered sarcastically.

"Bite me," Dean replied.

A shadow fell across the alley across the street. Sam and Dean looked at one another and nodded crossing the street and entering the alley.

Both of them had the babies in one hand and their weapons in the other.

Cautiously they looked into the alley and saw nothing. They moved forward.

"Anyone here?" Sam asked.

A noise behind them caught Dean's attention. he turned and there were two Templars blocking the exit. In front of them, from a dark shadow appeared Parker De La Croix.

"Please hand over the stones," Parker said and extended his hand. It occurred to Dean now what the Gargoyle had been doing. Reaching for it's young.

"I knew I was going to hate this guy," Dean said to Sammy.

"Shut up." Parker said to Dean, "You are of no consequence here."

"I say he is," Sam said loudly and the Templars behind them took a step backward and bowed.

"Fools, follow me!" Parker charged. And the Templars looked up, confused.

"Sammy?" Dean called.

"Way ahead of you," Sam replied and took a step backward. "Protect us," Sam said and the templars looked confused but timidly stepped forward.

I am your leader!" Parker screamed.

"But he is the father of the Holy one, liege." The older Templar responded. He looked at Sam and bowed. "We must not take sides in this, our loyalties are conflicted." And with a salute, he and the younger Templar turned and left.

"I will do this myself." And Parker pulled a gun from his coat, pointed it at Dean. "I will kill your brother." He charged.

"Why not kill me?" Sam asked. "Unless, of course, you can't."

"Don't overstep yourself, I can kill you, it would just be expensive. Now, give me those monsters. Are monsters worth dying for?"

"I got to tell you, La Croix, They been a damn sight more straight with use than you."

At that moment, dust rose as did a wind and from above them three gargoyles descended. Dean and Sam instinctively covered the chicks and took them out of the center of the alley. They held them against the wall and covered them with their own bodies.

The sound of grinding stone harkened the arrival of the Gargoyles, and La Croix fired at Dean, perhaps hoping to kill both the brother and the baby, but a large, gray wing shielded them. Parker took out and vanished down the alley.

We were uncertain what would become, but we knew, when the brothers turned, cradling you like their own young that all would be well. You chirped and looked at me, and it was love at first sight. The smile on the faces of the Brother's Winchester was not lost on us, either.

The largest gargoyle reached toward Dean. Dean held up the little gargoyle and offered it the last of the corned beef. It ate it merrily and nipped at his finger. He held it close to his face and it nuzzled his chin.

Then, it leaped into the hand of its father. Sam also surrendered his chick.

"We are in debted to you." The Gargoyle said.

"Naw, the little buggers are kind of cute." Dean offered.

"You are Sam and Dean Winchesters, the hunters of legend. I am Remy-Paul Garguiolles and these are my children." Remy-Paul gestured to his chicks.

"So, you guys aren't, you know..." Sam asked.

"The bad guys? What do you think?"

"I think you're ok by me. As long as you ain't killing people..."

"You don't understand. We are the guardians of the cities. I would no more hurt these people than I would kill one of my own. We only wish to live and watch over the city. We just have so many enemies."

"Well, you can take us off that list and we'll spread the word. You take care of those little ones." Dean said.

"And you watch over the Grail," Remy-Paul said to Sam with a sly nod. "If we can ever help you..."

"Likewise," Sam smiled.

"And now you should go. Monsuir La Croix doesn't take his beating with grace."

And with that Gargoyles flapped their wings and caught the air and vanished into the city night.

"You know, Sammy, I liked it better when the monsters were the bad guys."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

And so, my little ones, now it is time for you to slumber. Tomorrow will be another day of learning and growing and remember those we love so that when you grow, you can take your place as a defender of this beautiful city.

Good Night, Adean. Good night Sami."


End file.
